Triple Dog Dare
by wizards-inmyattic
Summary: Albus Potter isn't afraid of anything, and he definitely isn't afraid of ghosts. He's met lots of friendly ones, like the Fat Friar or Nearly Headless Nick. So why is it that when he's finally old enough to join in on the Potter-Weasley cousins last-day-of-summer shenanigans, he's paralyzed with fear? A muggle "haunted house" can't be that scary, right?


The sun was hanging lower and lower in the sky.

The end of summer was coming, and many people had the same idea: to spend it at the traveling carnival for its closing day.

For the Weasley-Potter family, the last day of summer (August 31st) was a big deal. The rules were simple: nothing illegal. Well, there was an occasional bout of underage drinking that varied from year to year but nothing past that. If you were older than fourteen you were allowed to come and hang out. There wasn't a solid reason for this, they just didn't care for babysitting on their last day of freedom before the Hogwarts term started the following day. The younger kids waited for the day when they would be able to join.

There were only six Weasley-Potter cousins in attendance: James Potter, Albus Potter, Rose Weasley, Fred Weasley, Molly Weasley, and Dominique Weasley. James and Albus's sister Lily, Rose's brother Hugo, Molly's sister Lucy and Dominique's brother Louis Weasley were all too young to join in. Dominique's other sister, Victoire Weasley, although she had originated the end-of-summer tradition with Molly and Teddy Lupin, had opted to spend the evening at home with Teddy, watching Lily, Hugo, Lucy, and Louis and probably spending some time cuddling, as the parents were having a day out on the town and dinner to celebrate the birthday of Audrey Weasley, Molly's mother.

Albus had an extremely important job this day. Whenever his brother or cousins decided they wanted to get onto a ride, they all handed their bags and various knick-knacks to Albus. It wasn't a chore for him, being the family amusement park locker. In fact, they only began to pile him with their belongings once they realized he wasn't going to ride anything all day. He would simply find a nice bench, pull out his book, and wait for them to return.

"You're a chicken," his cousin Dominique said later as they sat outside the Tilt-a-Whirl eating their lunches.

After riding the Tilt-a-Whirl eight times and puking five, James had suggested that Dom take a breather. She heard "get a corn dog," although it didn't seem like the sort of thing that would help nausea and vomiting.

"I'm not a chicken."

"The biggest thrill ride you've had today was the time you tripped over a five-year-old throwing a temper tantrum."

Albus took a bite out of his hot dog and frowned at Dominique's words. "I am _not_ a chicken. I'm a Gryffindor, remember? 'Where dwell the brave at heart?'"

"Kid, I've always wondered if the Sorting Hat made the right choice with you. You're not exactly 'lion' material. Bravery isn't your strong suit," she continued. "You never take risks! Right now, you're eating a plain hot dog instead of a corn dog because you don't like the surprise of biting into corn bread and finding something else."

"Don't call me 'kid.' I'm only a year younger than you."

They sat there in silence for a few moments, Albus silently fuming at what Dominique had said. _How dare she call me a chicken? I'm definitely not a chicken. I take lots of risks. Just last weekend, I flew on my broom without my helmet and pads. If that's not risk taking, I don't know what is._

"Whoo!"

James, Fred, Rose and Molly all came twirling back from the ride, laughing and clutching their stomachs as they made their way back to the bench.

Albus handed Rose her small shoulder bag. As they were both fourteen, it was their first year hanging out on the last day, although she seemed to be fitting in with the activities a little bit better than him by their cousins' standards.

"The sideshow is about to start," said Fred said, swiping the rest of Dominique's corn dog. "I want to see some freaky things."

"Sounds good to me," James added.

Dominique took the remainder of her corn dog from Fred and finished it in a single bite. "You know, I have a better idea," she said. "I think it's time for Al and Rosie to be _properly initiated,_ if you know what a mean." She smiled.

"15 and up cousin meeting," James said. He beckoned for Molly, Fred and Dominique to join him by a nearby bench on the other side of the walkway.

They began to discuss in rapid, hushed tones, Fred moving his hands through the air wildly and Molly stealing looks at Rose and Hugo while the conversation was happening. Albus looked at Rose as well. Compared to him, she was the epitome of coolness. Albus, however, was panicking because the way Dominique had said 'properly initiated' and the fact that she had spent the latter part of the afternoon teasing him about his cautiousness did not mesh well in his mind. He couldn't finish his hot dog.

 _Maybe I should have gotten some mustard on it._

Within a few more moments, The older cousins returned from their chat, grinning from ear to ear.

"Rosie, Al," Fred said, looking at each of them in turn. He spoke clearly and loudly, as if he was a king speaking to the potential candidates for knighthood. "It is now time for some fun. Your challenge, should you choose to accept it, awaits you."

"I accept," Rose said, as if it was a complete no-brainer. And for her, it was.

Everyone looked at Albus, who ran a nervous hand through his dark hair, only messing it up more. He locked eyes with Dominique, who smiled and mouthed, _chicken._ That did it.

"I'm in, too."

"Great! Now grab any last minute cotton candy or funnel cake you want, because we're leaving the carnival," Molly said. She rubbed her hands together.

Dominique nudged Albus with her elbow. "Kid, don't actually get any more greasy food. It'll just make extra work when you puke your guts up later," she said with a laugh. Albus was miffed at first, but then he began to wonder where they were going that vomiting was a possibility—and a likelihood—for him.

Molly led the way, whispering with James and Fred, a mad glint in her eye as they chuckled, occasionally turning back to look at Rose and Albus. The latter of the pair hung towards the back, Dominique walking beside him with a knowing smile on her face. Rose strode swiftly in front of them, her head held high and proud. Although you wouldn't call Rose as fearless as Dominique, the difference was, Albus knew that Rose was extremely skilled at masking her true emotions, and she would seem untouchable. Unless, of course, she stumbled across Scorpius Malfoy in the library, in which case you could see everything she was feeling in the color of her cheeks and the goofy look on her face. But that was a story for another day.

"Can I ask where we're going?" Albus said after they had left the carnival and started down the road.

"I don't know, _can you_?" Molly laughed at him and flipped her dark brown hair over her shoulder. It was without a doubt her favorite joke, as her father had spent many years instilling the "Ten Commandments of Grammar" into her head. It had actually ended up being the "Fifty-Three Commandments of Grammar," but no one said anything about that.

Albus didn't find the joke as funny as Molly. He rolled his eyes. "Where are we going?" he repeated, slightly more forceful this time.

"You'll see," was the only response he got.

They had been walking for twenty minutes when they reached the hill. And Albus's blood ran cold.

He recognized the house at the top of the hill. The muggle boy who lived near Dominique and her family had told Albus about it at Louis's birthday party. Apparently, it had been home to a family that had been brutally murdered by the daughter. She had died of remorse only days later, and her soul was still haunting the house after fifty years.

"We're not going into that house, are we?"

"Of course we are, dear cousin," Fred responded, not bothering to turn around, but flapping his hand at Albus dismissively.

Rose spun on her heel and began to walk backwards to face him as she talked. "I don't understand what the big deal is, Albus. You know ghosts are real, you've met plenty of them. Imagine how _offended_ Nearly Headless Nick would be if he found out you were scared of meeting with some of his ghostly pals. He might even uninvited you to his Deathday Party, and what would you say then?"

"I might thank him," Albus mumbled.

There were some laughs from the other Weasley-Potters as they reached the door of the old house.

Albus gulped as he studied the building. The peeling paint and decaying wood seemed to tell the story of all the tenants who had lived in the house before this moment. He could have sworn he heard spooky sounds coming from inside, but that was probably the paralyzing fear becoming better acquaintances with his imagination. The glass in the windows was shattered, and the front door was ajar. That was never a good sign.

Dominique strode to the front of the group and pushed the door open further.

"Are you coming?" she said, her question directed at Albus and matched with a pointed look. "I triple dog dare you."

"This is trespassing."

Fred chimed in, "Well, when we get inside we can tell the dead people who live here that we didn't mean to interrupt Family Game Night."

"Well, I feel really awful that Victoire and Teddy are stuck at home with the younger kids while we get to have all this fun. Maybe I should run home and keep them company, yeah?" Albus asked. He turned to go but his brother placed a hand on his arm.

James chuckled. "Somehow, I think a young couple like Ted and Victoire can find some way to entertain themselves when there are no adults around. They'll be fine."

"Haven't you guys seen a single horror movie?" Albus protested, a last ditch attempt to abort Mission: Haunted House. "I really think the muggles are onto something. You never do 'the thing.' This is 'the thing,' guys. They're going to make a horror movie about our deaths."

"We'll haunt the theater and get in for free," Fred said. "That'll make this worth your while."

"I hope they get ugly actors to play all of you." With that, Albus followed the others, resisting the urge to grab onto Molly's sleeve out of fear. He held his head high as he entered the house.

Under his breath, Albus began to sing. "If there's something strange, in the neighborhood. Who ya gonna call? Ghostbusters."

"Are you serious right now?" James asked. He shoved his brother with his shoulder.

As they walked through the dining room of the house, they blew dust off portraits in grimy frames, an old-fashioned looking family in very old-fashion clothes: a mother, a father, and two children, a girl and a boy.

The pictures continued as they went up the stairs. Molly was very interested in the old rugs lining the floor and started droning off to Fred about the handiwork. He looked as if he wished a spirit would swoop in and possess him at that moment.

Albus was so engrossed by the photographs on the wall that he wandered away from his cousins and through an open doorway. Once he was through, the door slammed shut behind him. It was locked. "James? Rosie? Fred? Molly? Dominique? Are you guys there?" He banged on the door with his fist and pressed his ear to the wood.

There was no response.

"Open the door. It isn't funny anymore." _Or at all,_ he added to himself, deciding that he would save his smart remarks until after they had let him out of the room.

Still, only silence.

Albus began to jiggle the doorknob frantically. "Come on. Let me out."

After a few more moments of vain shouts, Albus really began to panic. He turned away from the door and noticed the room he was in. Flowery wall paper, stuffed animals neatly lined up on the patterned bed spread. The duvet was stretched tightly across the frame, as if waiting for a child to return home from a day at school. This had to be the room of the little girl, the one who had murdered her entire family.

"Brutally," the muggle boy at Louis's party had emphasized. "Blood and guts _everywhere._ "

 _Right. I'm in the bedroom of a brutal murderer. Wonderful._

Albus whirled around at the feeling of a cool breeze blowing through the room. He was concerned because a) there was no window in the room, and b) since no one had lived in the house in decades, who was paying the air conditioning bill? No one. He was definitely in the presence of a brutal murderer. A brutal murderer who just so happened to be dead.

"I come in peace," Albus said. "Umm…" He held up his right hand and awkwardly formed the Vulcan salute. "Please don't kill me too."

As he watched, one of the dolls on the bed began to fly at his head. He ducked, fear apparent in his eyes. Lions, tigers, and bears followed suit, one large panda hitting him square in the jaw. It hurt more then he'd like to admit.

There was a rustling sound by the desk. A jar of red paint—he hoped it was paint—unscrewed itself and a paintbrush dipped into it. The brush started painting words onto the wall above the bed. The paint began to drip down to the bed dressings like blood, but Albus tried to focus on the words instead.

 **GET**

 **OUT**

 **OF**

 **MY**

 **HOUSE**

Albus didn't need to be told twice. In fact, that was what he had been suggested, and had they listened to him they never would have ventured into the house in the first place.

Without thinking, he pulled out his wand and pointed it at the door, hand shaking slightly from the terror. "REDUCTO!" he shouted.

The door blasted off its hinges.

"Guys! We have to get out of this house, right now!" Albus shouted. He tore down the stairs and found his cousins flipping through old books in the house's library. They looked up at his entrance and Dominique chuckled.

"Al's lost it."

But once Albus showed them the writing on the wall, they were all believers.

Fred tried to keep his cool façade. "Initiation over. It's been a long day for everyone. Let's go back to the Burrow and have some pumpkin juice."

The others all nodded their agreement, and the group began the trek down the hill, walking much faster than necessary to get away from the house.

"ItoldyousoItoldyousoItoldyouso" was all Albus could say, over and over, even that night as James was trying to fall asleep.

Immediately after the children were gone, a deep, rich laughter filled the rooms in the house, and two ghosts materialized in the library, only a few feet away from where Molly and Rose had been standing before Albus's dramatic entrance and announcement. One had raven-colored hair that stuck up all over, and the other had lustrous hair that fell to his shoulders, considerably good looking.

"This might be your best prank idea yet," said Sirius Black. He laughed.

James Potter the First chuckled as well. "Maybe I should feel bad about scaring my grandson like this, but you saw the kid. He needed to lighten up. We're doing him a favor."

"I still can't believe Harry named him Albus _Severus._ He might as well be called Snivellus Potter."

"I know. I'm usually so proud of Harry, but…"

A third ghost materialized next to them, a small girl with dark pigtails and a malicious smile. Sirius and James both nodded at her. "And thanks for letting us borrow your haunt for a few hours. Nice place you've got here."

She didn't answer, she only giggled girlishly and disappeared.

"That kid gives me the creeps," Sirius whispered. "Let's get out of here."

"I agree. I don't want Lily to start asking questions and find out we scared the pants off Albus today."

Sirius's eyes widened. "Too late."

James followed Sirius's eyes to a spot right behind him, where his wife, Lily Potter, stood with her arms followed and a knowing wife-eye-of-death look on her face. Then she laughed as well. "I actually thought it was brilliant. I came down to get a closer look."

"Come on," James said. He took Lily's hand and they vanished from sight, Sirius following closely behind.

All was well.


End file.
